


When I Don't Know You

by Rivulet027



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Multiverse, POV Mick Rory, Past Character Death, Past Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Season/Series 02, Soulmate-Identifying Timers, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-07 01:51:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12223311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rivulet027/pseuds/Rivulet027
Summary: Mick wakes up from stasis with a timer on his wrist and no idea how he got it. Then another Waverider appears, with a Leonard Snart that's never met him.





	When I Don't Know You

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with DC. It's not my toy box and I'm merely playing.
> 
> A/N: Originally started for the Coldwave week in August for the prompt Soulmates, but it got a little long on me. It fit for Day Two of Mick Rory Appreciation Week prompt Favorite Relationship so thought I'd post.
> 
> Warning: At one point Mick thinks that the timer is a countdown to when he'd be captured by the Time Masters again and he asks Oliver to kill him, they talk about suicide briefly. If that's going to bother you please don't read.

The counter would look like a tattoo if the numbers didn’t change Mick muses as he stares at it. Mick frowns as he runs his fingers over his wrist.

“When did you get that?” Oliver asks as he tilts his head back to makes sure Nate is heading out the door to search down where Rip sent the other Legends.

Micks shrugs. “Woke up with it.”

“Can I?” Oliver asks, indicating the counter. Mick holds out his hand. Oliver fingers brushing carefully over it. “When did it show up?”

“Didn’t have it when Rip knocked me out,” Mick tells him, before asking Gideon if she knows.

“Approximately two day and four hours ago,” Gideon tells him.

Oliver frowns, eyes glancing over the numbers, as he asks, “Has anyone besides Mick, Nate, and myself been on board?” 

“Not that I can discern,” Gideon answers Oliver.

“I’ll double check,” Mick reassures her.

“Appreciated,” she responds. 

“Do you know what it is?” Oliver continues.

Mick takes Oliver in, the way he’s directly looking at him, then the watch on his wrist that is more cuff than watch. “When did yours show up?”

“I didn’t think I was being that obvious,” Oliver comments.

“Most people don’t think they are,” Mick shrugs. “Gideon?”

Gideon doesn’t know what it is either. They could ask Nate, but what resources is he going to have that Gideon doesn’t? Instead Mick tugs down his sleeve, ignores the counter and moves on to rescuing his time scattered teammates. He doesn’t tell them about the counter either, what good is it going to do giving them something else to worry about?

They stop having time for him anyway. Sara is preoccupied with running the ship and seems endlessly annoyed with him. Apparently, now that she’s captain, she no longer appreciates bluntness. Jax is busy combing every section of the ship, making sure Rip didn’t leave off anything in his education. Mick knows he could help and he tries approaching Jax, knowing he can answer any questions the young man has, but Jax is too preoccupied with what he’s reading to give Mick more than a cursory glance. Ray is latching onto his new friendship with Nate and doesn’t have time for friends who are more preoccupied with mourning than living. Stein never had time for him before and Amaya is still feeling him out. Besides, Mick’s relatively sure that if he approaches any of them with questions about the counter on his wrist they would jump to worst case scenarios and use it as an excuse to drop him from the crew. He’s not ready to leave yet, where would he go?

He finds a cuff he can put over it and hope they don’t notice. They don’t, or if they do they don’t mention it.

He comes up with multiple scenarios over what the counter means and eventually settles into the idea that it’s a countdown to when remnants of the Time Masters will decide to make him their attack dog again. He’s tired, a bone deep exhaustion that won’t leave, but every part of his being doesn’t want to be Kronos again, can’t stand the idea of being Kronos again. When everyone teams up he tells Oliver his thoughts. He isn’t sure what to do with the worry on Oliver’s face so he ignores it, instead he asks Oliver to kill him if it needs doing

“What does mine mean then?” Oliver challenges.

“Maybe when you’ll kill me?” Mick tries.

“You think they’d try and get a hold of me too?”

“I don’t think your team would let them.”

Oliver frowns at him, sighs and runs a hands down his face. They have more pressing matters than a countdown on their wrists to worry about. “Why not ask Sara?” 

“Can’t ask Birdie,” he explains. “She’s trying not to kill.”

“So am I,” Oliver points out.

“I asked you to,” Mick reminds.

“Suicide by superhero,” Oliver shakes his head. “I hope that’s a new one.”

“No,” Mick shakes his head. “That’s not it. I can’t be used like that again. I don’t…without Snart I won’t come back from that again, without Rip the team wouldn’t know how. I’d kill you or yours.”

“Which is why I’ll agree to it,” Oliver concludes, shaking his head. “I don’t like it, but I’ll kill you if they manage to make you Kronos again.”

“Thanks.”

Oliver nods his understanding and Mick gives Oliver the number to his therapist, then doesn’t bother trying to make awkward small talk. He does try to ignore the relief that Oliver will take care of Kronos if need be. It’s not really suicide by superhero, right? He has to be turned into their enemy again, not that he isn’t already a supervillain, or had been a supervillain. What do they call a supervillain who’s attempting to keep a team of heroes from doing anything too dumb? Mick isn’t sure he wants to know.

Anxiety pools, low and thick, in his gut the day the counter is set to reach zero. He’s never had Len’s ability to tick off the seconds in his head, but he’s suddenly acutely aware of when zero is. When another ship appears, almost an exact replica of the Waverider, and halts them with a tractor field, one that they can’t countermeasure and effectively renders their ship inert, Mick forces himself to take a seat instead of finding a way to run. His nerves jangle along with Gideon’s increasing annoyance that she can’t find a way out of the sudden field, even with Ray and Jax’s help. Maybe the counter is counting down to his death? That would mean destroying the whole ship, wouldn’t it? If the counter is his death, does that mean Oliver is going to die soon too? The counter’s almost to zero.

“They’re asking to speak to us,” Gideon tells them.

Sara draws back her shoulders. “Good. Let’s get some answers.”

Gideon projects an image being sent by the other ship. Mick feels his breath catch, Len is standing next to Kendra. He ignores the suddenly loud voices around him as he drinks in the sight of Len. It is Len, he knows that stance. This is a Len about to pull off a job he knows he’ll excel at, this is Len looking forward to working around the few challenges he couldn’t have perceived ahead of time. This is also a Len whose eyes slide over him, accessing quickly and moving on.

He stands slowly, watches as Len’s eyes shift over, track his movement, as Kendra tells everyone to calm, attempts to reassure them they won’t be harmed if they cooperate. Mick draws his shoulders back as he realizes he could get them out of this, his fingers itch to touch the captain’s chair, punch in the right counter measures and fly them away. His shoulders slump, he doesn’t have the energy to save them this time. He should force himself to. He’s done it before, he can do it again.

Len’s still accessing. Mick takes a step back to the controls in the middle of the bridge, waits until Len looks at him and tells him, “No.”

It’s clear from the way Len smirks that he doesn’t recognize the tone Mick is using, the one that indicates there is a flaw in Len’s plan. 

“They’re from another universe,” he informs the team. “Like Skirt.”

“How would you know that?” Stein challenges.

“He’s not wrong,” Len interjects. “We had a run in with the Time Masters of our universe, decided we didn’t like the way they did things, got rid of them, then figured ridding other universe of them could be beneficial.”

“He means fun,” Mick glowers, not liking the way it stings that this Len doesn’t recognize him. “He likes the challenge.”

A pregnant Lisa slides into view beside her brother and glares at him, “And who would you be?”

Mick clamps down on the shock and pain jolting through him. Neither one of them recognize him. Was their life better off without him? Lisa’s pregnant? He shoves at his uncertainty, buries it down as far and as quickly as he can. Ray shifts closer to him, but Mick forces himself not to acknowledge it. He drinks the Snart siblings in briefly, before he tells them gruffly. “Whatever, I’m out.”

Jax protests.

He ignores Jax and tells Sara. “Let me know if I get to burn something.”

“Mick,” Sara chides, exasperated. “This isn’t helping.”

Mick turns on his heel and stalks towards his room, ignoring Ray when he protests worriedly. Mick keeps moving instead, until he can slump in his doorway. He drags the prepacked duffle out from under his bed and locks his door. He doesn’t know what to do. He could run, but that would mean abandoning the crew and accepting that he’s alone. He could try and get them out of this. Mick shakes his head and drops down onto the floor by his bed. He tilts his head back and closes his eyes tightly, concentrating on his breathing. He inhales and exhales slowly twice, then a third time, before he shakes his head and opens his eyes. The sight of Len, a Len that doesn’t know him, makes his throat suddenly feel thick and the pain that he’s been engulfed in go from dull and ever-present to sharp and incessant. 

There’s a knock, then Jax’s voice. Mick forces himself to his feet, lets the door slide open, as he growls, “I ain’t…”

Len is standing there with Jax, eyes calculating, every part of him taunt as he takes in a situation he’s not sure of. His gaze settles on Mick’s wrist, on the cuff that Mick’s taken to wearing there. He watches as Len’s face shifts to indifference, which means he cares more than he’ll ever let on.

“You gonna kill me?” Mick asks.

“Undecided,” Len quips.

“Spare the kid and the old man,” he bargains, ignoring the confusion on Jax’s face.

“And why would I do that?” Len smirks.

His Len would have told him to stop fussing, then teased him for being attached. Mick glowers, fingers itching to grab his gun, except if they drew on each other Len wouldn’t take this as a time to talk. If you’re out you’re out, but you can’t jeopardize the plan and that’s a price you have to be willing to pay. 

Len glances over at Jax, before he begins to slowly removing the gloves on his hands. “Not going to risk Firestorm imploding. Is that what you’re after?”

Mick doesn’t answer.

“Is there another Grey and I on your ship?” Jax asks.

“You two didn’t stay long. You weren’t interested and the Professor wasn’t going to go anywhere without his wife. Captain Hunter wasn’t going to allow that,” Len informs them as he finishes taking off his gloves, then slips them into the pocket of his parka. He pulls up a sleeve next, carefully to just under the cuff, before unsnapping it and holding up his wrist so Mick can see the counter on it. Len’s is counting upwards, has recently started counting upwards. There’s a scar above it, a counter that’s gone to zeros with a line through them. 

Mick wants to ask what it is, but Len is watching him warily. He’ll have to give ground first if he wants Len to answer his questions. He hasn’t had to prove himself to Len, hasn’t had this lack of trust from the other man, in years, except this isn’t his Len. Mick sighs wearily as he pulls his own cuff off and holds out his hand.

“They match,” Jax says, concern in his tone. They do, right down to the second.

“I take it you’re the only one in your universe with one?” Len ventures.

If he protects Oliver, then Mick knows he won’t get answers.

“I’ve met one other person,” Mick concedes.

Len’s eyes narrow. “How do you know what to say to keep me interested?”

“I met my Snart when I was sixteen. He was fourteen.”

Len’s voice is carefully, horribly neutral. “My counter scared to zero when I was six. Our AI said my universe’s version of you died in a house fire when you were eight.”

His words had rattled Len and now Len’s words do the same for him. It’s on the tip of Mick’s tongue to say he should’ve died that day, but Jax speaks up. “The version of you we picked up was not eight.”

Mick feels himself stutter to a stop, feels his walls start coming up. He doesn’t want to think about the just barely an adult Mick they’d brought on board, or Len smirking at how cute he was as a baby, or a child Lisa that clung to him when Len wasn’t available.

“Ain’t worth talking about,” he manages, the words choking in his throat.

Jax protests, “They went in the house to see about your parents.”

Mick frowns at him. Parents, not family, he realizes. It was never just his parents in the first fire. He shakes his head and nearly complains about wanting a beer, but Len’s staring at him.

“Maybe you should go, kid,” Len suggests. “Seems he and I have things to discuss.”

Jax looks to him for direction.

“Go,” Mick tells him wearily. He’s not dead, though this might be worse.


End file.
